Di Predatori e Prede
by Miles333
Summary: AU, sequel. A month after the battle with Katherine, Elena has yet to become immortal. Damon is starting to lose patience. The fragile thread connecting them begins to waver as a mysterious witch arrives, asking for help, and the Hunters attack… *Delena*
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** This is the sequel to _Risveglio di un Nuovo Mondo_. I got so many reviews on it that I decided I might as well continue the AU of the previous story. So enjoy, and don't forget to review after reading! :D

**Summary:** AU, sequel. A month after the battle with Katherine, Elena has yet to become immortal. Damon is starting to lose patience. The fragile thread connecting them begins to waver as a mysterious witch arrives, asking for help, and the Hunters attack… *Delena*

* * *

Chapter One

The room was full of shadows, the only light to see with provided by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Several men wearing medieval-style dark cloaks with the hoods down were gathered around the center of the room, leaning over several heavy wooden tables. Each had a variety of glittering metal weapons piled in front of them, and were polishing them all carefully. There were guns, daggers, knives, and swords. Clubs and maces, war hammers and spears. Even a scattering of bows and arrows were thrown in. Each device was incredibly old, and had seen its fair share of torture over the years. And none of them were finished yet.

A slight man with brown-blonde hair was watching all this was a strange half-smile on his face. Now he cleared his throat and clasped both hands together. "I must say, all this is _very_ impressive," he said, voice echoing around the cavernous room.

One of the men, who seemed to be the official leader of the gathering, looked expressionlessly up from his work. "We aim to please. And you've paid us quite a lot, Mr. Gilbert. That helps things considerably, of course."

John Gilbert nodded. "Of course." He paused for a few moments, watching the cloaked men continue their work. Then he said calmly, "You all know what to do? Time is running out faster than I'd like. Whatever it takes, I want my daughter safe from that bloodsucking monster, _Damon Salvatore_." He spat the name out like it was poison.

"Don't worry, Mr. Gilbert. We will take care of your little problem."

John smiled. The shadows thrown over his face made the expression seem demonic. "Oh, I'm not worried. The Hunters have an incredible reputation, as I'm sure you know. You'll doubtlessly be able to extinguish that _creature_ trying to trap my daughter with no effort at all."

The other man held up the sword he'd been polishing; the curved silver blade gleamed brightly. "We already have an agent moving into position for Phase One. It won't be long now."

Still smiling, John absentmindedly stroked the ring on his hand, which enabled him to escape from any supernatural deaths that threatened him. "Excellent. The sooner, the better."

Damon Salvatore didn't stand a chance.

* * *

Damon was lying in Elena's bed, head propped up on one hand, watching her sleep. Her face was completely peaceful, eyelids covering her brown eyes. Her tousled hair was spread out across the pillow, and her chest rose and fell with slow, even breaths. He loved watching her sleep, whenever he got the chance. It was the one time when people couldn't control their facial expressions. He was safe in knowing that Elena wasn't hiding anything from him at that one time.

Light was beginning to filter in through the window. Damon estimated it to be around eight o'clock. They usually didn't stay in bed so late, but the night before had definitely worn them both out. A sly smile crossed Damon's lips just thinking about it. How many months had he dreamed about having sex with Elena, back when they'd first met? It had been mostly in the beginning just because such a thing would piss Stefan off immensely, though his feelings had changed a lot after getting out of the tomb.

Stefan. His smile slipped slightly as he thought of his younger brother. Stefan had sacrificed his own life to kill Katherine a month earlier, pulling them both outside to be burned alive in the sunlight. He had died a hero. But that didn't make losing him any easier on those he'd left behind.

Looking down at his hand, Damon silently studied the lapis lazuli ring he wore, as he often did. It had been Stefan's. After everything had been finished, Damon had taken off Katherine's ring and put it back for Elena, once she became a vampire. He didn't want to waste such a valuable piece of protection, but he'd felt dirty wearing it. Wearing Stefan's felt much more…right.

"Hey."

Damon blinked with surprise, eyes moving back to Elena. She had somehow woken without him noticing, and was now smiling sleepily up at him. As he raised his eyebrows at her, she reached to trace his cheek with one hand. Her skin felt warm against his. Yet another sign of her humanity.

"Hello, Ms. Gilbert," he said, leaning towards her until their lips were separated by only inches. "And how are _you_ this morning?"

She kissed him instead of answering. She obviously intended it to be a simple good morning kiss, but Damon purposefully deepened it, touching the back of her head with his hand and pressing his lips hard to hers. He hoped to be lucky enough to replay the events of the night before.

Much to his chagrin, she laughed and pushed him away. He could have easily used his inhuman strength to force her to keep kissing him, but he didn't. He fell back good-naturedly against the pillows. "You wound my fragile male ego. You should be _ashamed_." He wiggled both eyebrows at her.

"Da_mon_," she said, exasperatedly giving his name two long syllables. "You know I've got to start getting ready for the grand opening of that new library. I can't just stay in bed with you all day, despite how enticing that might sound."

"I don't see why not," he said with mock irritation. He pulled himself into a sitting position and sighed gustily. "Well, whatever. Go and play with your little human friends. I'll hunt deer in the woods and roam around being generally badass."

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn't get out of bed. "Damon…is something wrong?" she asked slowly. "I can tell you've got something on your mind."

"Are you a psychic now?"

"Damon."

He turned to meet her questioning gaze. "I've just been wondering if you've changed your mind," he said. "You know, about becoming a bloodsucking beast of the darkness and all that. It's been a month, and you keep coming up with more and more things you just _have_ to do before you're immortal."

She immediately looked defensive, also sitting up and pulling the blankets to her chin. "Of _course_ I still want to be a vampire! I want to be with you forever!" she said angrily. "It's just…I have so many loose ends to tie up first. I _thought_ you understood, Damon."

"Oh, yeah, attending the opening of a library full of dusty old books is something _I _would want to have on my bucket list, too."

"You just don't get it, do you, Damon?" she snapped, eyes flashing like lightning. "You're just being like this because _you_ never got the chance to make a choice about this."

His peaceful mood from earlier was completely broken now. He felt like getting dressed and going out to kill a bunch of helpless animals. But he knew this urge wasn't probably one he needed to share with Elena, so he took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. Without looking at Elena, he said in a cold voice, "I think you should go get ready now."

"Fine. I will." She threw the blankets away and stomped towards the bathroom. The door slammed behind her. A few moments later, the sound of the shower running came through the wall.

Damon closed his eyes and slammed his head into the bed's headboard with a groan. He hated fighting with Elena, but there was really nothing he could do about it. The longer he was around her as a human, the harder it got to control the urge to drink her blood. Again. Sometimes he found himself dreaming about it at night: the sweet taste, flowing into his mouth, around his fangs…

He clenched both hands into fists. He wasn't going to be able to repress the urge for much longer. It was stronger than he was. Elena needed to decide, and soon, whether she really still wanted this immortal life for herself. Because if the deed wasn't committed very soon…he wasn't going to be able to stick around. As much as he hated the thought of leaving her behind, he didn't really want to kill her.

Obviously, things weren't exactly going perfectly for him and Elena right now.

The doorbell rang downstairs. Damon knew perfectly well that Jeremy was out, as usual, doing whatever it was he did, so he called towards the bathroom, "Elena, someone's at the door!" She didn't answer, presumably because the sound of the running water tuned out his voice. "Elena?"

The doorbell rang a second time. Sighing, Damon kicked back the blankets and climbed out of bed. He bent and picked up the tangled pair of jeans on the floor, stepping into them one leg at a time. After securely buttoning them at his waist, he grabbed the button-down shirt hanging across the back of Elena's desk chair and pulled it on as well. He didn't bother taking the time to button it, running one hand through his tousled hair and jogging out into the hall.

Again, the bell chimed out through the house. Damon muttered something unsavory under his breath, hurrying down the stairs with one hand sliding along its smooth wooden railing. Wondering what suicidal human would dare disturb him, he grabbed the knob of the door and wrenched it open.

"What do you–" He broke off, realizing that he was talking to thin air. No one stood on the front porch, which didn't really explain how the doorbell had been ringing. Damon briefly considered the possibility that he had finally lost his mind, stepping over the threshold and peering up and down the street outside. It was empty.

With a frown, he stepped back inside and started to close the door. That's when he noticed the package, brown and featureless, lying on the welcome mat. "What–"

The package exploded. Damon was blown violently backwards, and saw a brilliant flash of white light. He didn't even have the time to cry out.

**

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**

Sorry it's a bit short, but I thought that was the perfect place to end things. *evil grin* I hope everyone will like this story as much as its prequel. Please review if you have the time!


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter, guys. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Two

His hearing was oddly dimmed, except for a faint ringing sound. Everything seemed too bright, white lights spiraling crazily around the edges of his vision. His body felt weightless, like he was floating up towards the ceiling of the house. It was a nice feeling, if a little disorientating.

Then Damon snapped back into himself again with a teeth-cracking jolt. He was sprawled across the foot of the staircase, arms splayed wide and one leg pinned underneath him. He could tell without looking that it was dislocated, thanks to the white hot pain searing its way up and down his spine. Gritting his teeth together, he jerked it back into place with an ominous cracking sound. He gasped in pain despite his best efforts, lying still and taking deep breaths for several seconds.

After the majority of the pain in his leg had faded, Damon reached for the wooden railing and gripped it with both hands. Swearing under his breath, he dragged himself into a standing position with agonizing slowness. He had to get upstairs to Elena, check on her. Anything could have gone on while he'd been lying helpless on the ground, stunned from the explosion. And if anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself!

Staggering as he tried to remain standing, Damon glanced up the stairs. Fifteen of them rose above him, fading in and out of the blurriness, taunting him. There was no way he could make it up there on his own, he could see that. But he was damn well going to try.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted one of his legs and tried to step up. His surroundings became a blur of color around him, and he immediately dropped like a stone, backwards to the floor in the entryway. He stayed there for a few moments, blinking rapidly and trying to clear his vision. It was only then when he became aware of the figure standing over him.

"Elena?" he slurred.

"I'm afraid not," an unfamiliar voice replied. The figure leaned closer to him, and he saw that the speaker had a beautiful face and eerie gray-purple eyes, long locks of silky black hair hanging down towards him.

Using a burst of vampire speed, he leapt to his feet and away from the stranger. He grabbed at the railing of his stairs again to remain standing, staring at her with undisguised mistrust. "Who the hell are you?"

She started to take a step towards him, but obviously thought better of it. "It's all right," she said soothingly. "I just need to know one thing: are you Damon Salvatore?"

He couldn't have been more surprised to hear her ask that, but tried to force his expression to remain a wary one. "Yeah, who wants to know?"

"Oh my God!" Elena appeared at the top of the staircase, clutching a white towel tightly around herself. Her skin and hair were still dripping from the shower. She left wet footprints behind her as she hurried down the stairs. "Damon, what _happened_?"

He smiled weakly at her. "I think it was a bomb concealed in a package, believe it or not. What did you ever do to piss off the mailman so much?"

Elena exhaled shakily and touched his face with the back of her hand. "I heard the explosion upstairs," she said. "God, Damon, I was so worried about you…"

"I'm a vampire. We're basically _indestructible_," he said, with false bravado.

The strange woman, still standing just inside the doorway, cleared her throat. Elena froze, then spun around to face the stranger, clutching her towel a bit tighter. Her lips parted with surprise, but she didn't say anything.

"This is kind of awkward," Damon said, after a few moments of silence.

The woman took a step forward. "My name is Yvonne Tyler," she said.

Elena exchanged a look with Damon, who shrugged in response to her unspoken question. "Elena Gilbert," she said warily. "What are you doing in my house? Did _you_ plant that bomb?" She somehow managed to look intimidating, despite the fact that she was clad in nothing but a damp towel.

Yvonne threw both hands up in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. "No, no it wasn't me," she said quickly. "But I think I know who did it."

Fighting the wave of dizziness sweeping over him, Damon gripped the staircase railing a little harder and took a deep breath. "Okay, nice to meet you, now what do you want?"

Yvonne turned her eerie purple gaze on him, while Damon resisted the urge to squirm. "I am the witch princess of the elite society of Hartmons," she said regally.

Elena visibly flinched. Knowing that she was undoubtedly thinking of the traitorous and now-deceased Bonnie, Damon reached out and touched her arm. It was tense under his hand.

Appearing to notice none of this, Yvonne continued. "I'm from Richmond, where the Hartmon society is based. I have been preparing for my graduation ceremony to become queen-in-waiting for a long time, which was supposed to be next week. But the past few months, something strange has been happening. Men in cloaks have been following me–"

"Men in cloaks? What do you think this is, a horror movie?" Damon interrupted.

"–and have even tried to kill me on more than one occasion," she went on, seemingly unaffected by the disruption. "I'd heard of you many times before, Damon Salvatore, and thought maybe you could help me. I need protection. And I was desperate enough to come to you like this even though I know that vampires and witches are natural enemies. So _please_ help me."

"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but what makes you think I can help?" he asked, not bothering to hide the dubiousness in his voice. Elena nodded her silent agreement.

"I've heard so much about how powerful and good you are, different from most of your own kind. I knew you would not turn me away."

"I hate to tell you this, lady, but you must have mistaken me with some _other_ Damon Salvatore."

Yvonne took another step closer, and Elena backed up towards Damon. "Please. I'm afraid you don't really have much of a choice. The men in the cloaks must have traced me here, which explains the bomb. They know where I am, and they won't stop until they've destroyed this house to get to me. Along with both of _you_."

"I'm a lot harder to kill than your average guy." But he couldn't stop himself from glancing at Elena, brow furrowing. What if she had been the one to answer the door? She very likely would have been killed. Both of his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep any of this from showing on his face. Why the hell couldn't she just let him turn her and be done with it?

"Please, Damon. I'll _beg_ if I have to. I'm not proud," Yvonne insisted, clasping her hands together. "They'll kill me if you don't help me, I know they will. And the Hartmon witches will be left without an heir to the throne. Witch society would slip into _chaos_."

He blinked a few times. There was something about the way she was staring so pleadingly at him. "Well, when you put it like that–" he began.

Elena grabbed his arm, fingernails digging into the skin. He couldn't help wincing. A frustrated expression on her face, she hissed loudly, "Come on, _Damon_. We need to talk." She dragged him up the stairs without another look at Yvonne.

He waved halfheartedly at the witch as they left her at the foot of the staircase. She didn't move to do anything, watching them go with a blank expression that was sort of unsettling. Damon told himself that it was just because she reminded him of backstabbing Bonnie as he followed Elena into her room. That was all. What else could it be?

Elena slammed the door behind them, letting her towel fall to the floor. She bent to dig around in a laundry hamper of clean clothes, movements jerky and obviously angry.

With a sigh, Damon sank down onto the bed. It felt good to get off his feet. He rubbed his aching forehead, disappointed that his headache kept him from being able to appreciate the view.

"Damon, there is no _way_ we're bringing some random witch in off the streets," she told him in a hard voice, fastening the clasps of her bra. "Don't you think it's the _littlest_ bit suspicious that she showed up right as a _bomb_ went off and nearly killed you?"

He muttered something vague about the divine hand of fate. How he wished she would stop yelling; when humans were angry, it made the blood rush through their bodies much quicker than usual. Her tantalizing smell wafted to him across the room, and he could feel his fangs pulsing hungrily.

She wasn't even listening; stepping into a denim skirt, she continued her rant. "Seriously, are you forgetting that I'll be a vampire soon? After you kill me, I'll need to be fed blood. Then you'll need to keep a really close eye on me to make sure I don't attack any humans. We need to focus all of our attention on this, Damon. Once we do it, there's no going back. The one thing we don't need is some _witch princess_ living under this roof and causing chaos of the cloaked-killer type."

His mouth opened before he could stop it, words flowing freely from his lips. "Oh, so _now_ you want to be a vampire? Could have fooled me, with all this stalling of yours," he said sarcastically. He immediately wanted to take it back when he saw the blood drain from her face. And that realization of course made him even thirstier.

"Of _course_ I still want to be a vampire!" she exclaimed, jerking a scoop-necked red shirt on over her head. "I want to be with you forever. And _you're_ the one who's jeopardizing all of this, with that Yvonne person."

Damon fell onto his back, bouncing slightly when he hit the mattress. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his face in an attempt to block out the scent of her blood. His mouth was watering. "I thought you'd _want_ to help her," he said, voice muffled. "Aren't human beings supposed to be all compassionate and crap?"

He listened to her footsteps as she approached, sitting down beside him. "Damon–are you all right?" she asked uncertainly. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm just _peachy_."

She pulled the pillow away from his face, and he didn't resist. She stared down at him, a tiny line forming between her eyebrows. "D-do you need to hunt?" she asked, throat working as she swallowed hard.

He reached up and touched his face. He could feel the veins standing out beneath his eyes, a sure sign of bloodlust, and swore mentally. It took all of his self-control to force his face to smooth out again, and the effort made him breathless. "No, I'm fine," he said finally, when he was sure he could speak without lunging for her jugular.

"If this is about Yvonne, I guess...she could stay. For a little while," Elena said. Something like fear lingered in her dark eyes, which made Damon hate himself. _He_ had caused that fear to form there; fear of _him_. "Anything that causes you to remember your humanity is good, right?"

Before he could reply, she went on, "But this _isn't_ a permanent solution, okay? She's leaving as soon as this whole thing is sorted out. And then you're going to turn me. Got it?"

He nodded slowly. She reached out to touch the side of his face, but he flinched away. He couldn't get close to her right now; not until the raging bloodlust had faded a bit more. It was too dangerous. When he saw the hurt expression on her face, he quickly opened his mouth, before he could lose his nerve. "Elena, I need to tell you something–"

"Uh, Elena? Are you here?" came Jeremy's uncertain voice, from downstairs.

She bit her lip, glancing towards the closed bedroom door. "What is it that you need to tell me?" she asked, though the moment was already gone. She was too worried about her brother to listen to anything Damon had to say right then.

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's not important," he said reluctantly. "You'd better go see what he wants. I guess."

Giving him a quick smile, she hopped down from the bed and hurried out to the hallway. Damon got to his feet and reluctantly followed her. They both went downstairs, and found Jeremy waiting just inside the front door. Yvonne still stood where they'd left her, looking as though she hadn't moved even an inch.

"Hey, Jere," Elena said, hurrying over to stand beside him. "Did you have fun with Tyler and the others?"

"I guess," he said. "I just have one question for you, Elena: why does it look like a bomb went off in here?"

"Because one did," Damon said helpfully.

"Oh. Uh, is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, we're all fine. No one was hurt or anything," Elena said.

"This is Yvonne," Damon said, seeing the way Jeremy kept sneaking glances at the beautiful stranger. "She's a witch. She's going to be your new _roomie_."

Jeremy looked startled. "I–"

"Don't listen to him," Elena said, giving Damon a Look. "Yvonne has fallen on hard times, and needs some help. She'll be staying _in the guest room_ for a few days."

"Oh. Hi."

Yvonne ignored both Gilberts, instead flying at Damon and throwing her arms around his neck. He staggered backwards and grabbed at the railing in an attempt to remain standing. "I can stay? Thank you _so much_, Damon!"

Damon caught a murderous glare from Elena, and impatiently brushed Yvonne away. She didn't seem the slightest bit put off, standing before him and smiling admiringly. "It's actually Elena's house, so you should be thanking her and not me," he said.

The witch princess turned appropriately. "_Thank you_, Elena," she said in a simpering voice.

Jeremy had been watching all of this silently. Now he moved around them and headed for the kitchen, saying something about breakfast.

"I think that breakfast would be a good idea, Jere," Elena said coldly, avoiding Yvonne's gaze and following her brother. She grabbed Damon's sleeve and hauled him after her. Yvonne bounded along after them, causing Elena's eyes to narrow into slits as she stared straight ahead.

Damon wondered how long Yvonne would manage to survive before Elena came after her with a kitchen knife.

**

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How many of you are SERIOUSLY ANNOYED at how Elena's treating Damon on the show? If I ever meet any of the writers in person, I'm going to have a Talk with them! *glowers angrily*

**Reviews would be much appreciated! :D**


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** Woo-hoo, new chapter!

* * *

Chapter Three

A few hours later, Yvonne was still alive. This was a surprise to Damon, seeing as Elena clearly wasn't thrilled about her presence in the house. And he was trying his best not to think about her. Not at all.

The way she'd clung to him all through breakfast, the way she'd found hundreds of excuses to reach out and touch his arm, his hand, his shoulder… He was starting to feel as though he'd stepped into an alternate universe where he had power over all women without even trying. He'd excused himself twice from the table to go into the bathroom and check his eyes, making sure that he wasn't somehow compelling Yvonne without knowing. It had turned out that he was innocent of compulsion, which had brought him back to the alternate universe theory. Now if only some of that power would rub off on Elena…

He was stretched out on Elena's bed, leafing through a tacky romance novel he'd found sticking out from under her nightstand. He was feeling a bit more in control of himself after going on a quick hunting excursion, finding comfort from the mildly sour blood of a few squirrels and an innocent bunny.

Afterwards, he'd returned to find Elena in her bedroom putting on a touch of makeup and some jewelry. In other words, doing girly things that he didn't even pretend to understand. It was apparently almost time to head to the grand opening of the Mystic Falls library, as soon as she was finished primping. Damon wished she would hurry; he was so _bored_.

"–seriously thinking about stabbing her with a butter knife. I'm so not kidding," Elena was saying, dabbing a bit of foundation onto her cheek. "She is just so completely _annoying_, Damon. The way she was hanging on you all through breakfast…"

"I'm just irresistible that way," Damon said, turning the page. His eyes skimmed over the words with inhuman speed, devouring the scene in which the big-breasted heroine was busy taking about an entire chapter to faint melodramatically into the hero's arms after he'd rescued them from a stampede of wild mustangs.

"It wasn't _funny_," Elena insisted, turning to him with a scowl. "Did you see Jeremy? He was practically swimming in his cereal bowl to hide from her. That's the only reason he agreed to come with us to the library, to get away from her."

"Your brother is _unnatural_. He should be thrilled about the fact that a beautiful young witch with supernaturally clingy tendencies is living just down the hall from him for the foreseeable future. I suggest medical observation." Damon tossed the book down onto the bed, where it bounced and fell to the carpet.

Elena put on a touch of lipstick, then brushed the wrinkles from her shirt and stood. Damon sat up and smirked at her. "How long did you say until we have to leave?"

She glanced slowly at her watch, a suggestive smile curving her lips. "About five minutes…"

"Damn. Not quite long enough for what I had in mind," he said regretfully. "In that case, I think I'll be staying here. You and Jeremy have fun at the _library_, I'll go enjoy an afternoon of wrecking havoc and chasing down poor defenseless maidens like the sorry excuse for a female in that book of yours. Which you _didn't_ find a good enough hiding place for, by the way."

"Damon. You _promised_ to come with me," she said.

"Did I? I must have been drunk. Which of course invalidates any promises and/or oaths I might have made on the life or me or my poor deceased mother."

"Ric will probably be there. And Tyler."

"Is that supposed to convince me? You _really_ need to work on your skills of persuasion, Ms. Gilbert," he said.

She walked towards him, and he moved forward to the end of the bed, so that his feet touched the floor. "Not working? Hmm, maybe I should try something else."

"Like _what_?" Damon asked wickedly.

She leaned forward, bracing herself by putting both hands on his shoulders. Their lips met…

…and the door slammed open. "Oh, I am _so_ sorry!" Yvonne exclaimed, looking completely flustered. Damon and Elena reluctantly pulled apart to face her. "I was just wondering where you'd both gone, since Jeremy's in his room, and he won't open the door–"

"How strange," Damon said.

"So, anyway, since I've already, you know, _interrupted_," she said, pausing to laugh shrilly, "do you guys want to do something? Maybe go out to the mall or something? I know I shouldn't be wanting to do stuff like that, since those cloaked men are trying to _kill_ me and everything, but I really need to keep my mind off _it_. What do you say?" She fixed her eerie purple gaze on Damon, who averted his eyes.

Elena cleared her throat. "We've already got plans, Yvonne. I'm sorry." To her credit, she almost sounded like she actually meant it.

Yvonne's face fell. "Oh. Sorry. I'll just, um, stay here, then. Will Jeremy be around?"

"He's coming with us, too," Damon said, watching for her reaction with interest.

Her purple eyes seemed to glisten. "Oh, o-okay. Sorry to bother you guys…" She turned to go, slender shoulders literally sagging.

"Wait! You can come with us, if you want," Elena said suddenly. "We're just going to the library, but there'll be free refreshments and everything, and you can meet some of the people who live here in Mystic Falls…"

"_What_?" Damon hissed into her ear. "Elena, are you on _crack_?"

"Just trying to keep her out of the house. Unless _you_ think it's a good idea to leave her here alone," she muttered back.

Yvonne spun towards them with an expression of pure joy. "Really? I can come with you guys? Thank you so much!"

"We'll make sure you're safe," Elena said.

"None of the dudes in cloaks will murder you on our watch," Damon added, albeit much more reluctantly than Elena.

The witch princess threw herself at Damon, wrapping both arms around his neck. He toppled backwards onto the bed, with her laying on top of him and beaming down into his face. "Thank you so much; you have _no_ idea how much I appreciate that. Damon," she breathed. Her lips were inches from his.

He swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at the dangerously low neckline of Yvonne's shirt, looming up towards his nose.

Elena reached out and grabbed Yvonne by the arm, roughly jerking her away. Yvonne stumbled, limbs flailing wildly, but didn't fall. "Oops, sorry," Elena said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I was just trying to help you up. _Damon_, ready to go?"

He looked at her and winced at the furious expression on her face. He agilely sprang to his feet, putting several feet of distance between himself and Yvonne. He tried not to smirk at the look on Elena's face; she was just so cute when she was jealous. "Yup, ready," he drawled, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Dusty old books, here we come!"

She smiled gratefully at him, then led him out into the hall. Yvonne followed closely, like an eager puppy.

"Jeremy! Time to go!" Elena shouted at her brother's closed door.

After a few moments, the door slowly creaked open. Jeremy emerged, giving Yvonne a wide berth as he joined them. "'M ready," he muttered.

"Oh, hi, Jeremy," Yvonne said brightly. "I was wondering where you'd gotten off to."

He didn't answer, shuffling past and heading down the stairs without a word.

Damon raised both eyebrows. "Well, _this_ should be fun."

* * *

Ten minutes later – ten minutes that seemed to pass as slowly as an eternity – Damon exploded from the backseat of the Elena's car, where he'd been sitting with Jeremy. He barely even waited for the vehicle to come to a complete stop before he was out, standing on the concrete. The others exited much more slowly, Elena locking the car once all the doors had been closed.

It had definitely been an interesting trip. Elena had been struggling to make casual conversation, while her brother stared silently out the window. Yvonne had sung praises of the famed Damon Salvatore at every available opportunity, until Damon had grown sick of hearing his own name come from her lips. Elena's hands had tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. The many looks she'd given him in the rearview mirror had been very irritated to say the least.

Damon was actually readier to go browse a collection of old and undoubtedly boring books than stay in that car a second longer.

"This place looks nice, doesn't it?" Yvonne trilled, as the four of them mounted the large marble steps leading up to the front doors of the new library.

"Uh-huh. Nice," Damon said. Jeremy rolled his eyes.

Inside, most of the citizens who lived in or around Mystic Falls seemed to be milling about. A long table was set up near the center of the room, overflowing with refreshments, and all the wooden shelves of books were glittering with tiny white lights that had been strung up along them.

"Oh look, there's Tyler," Jeremy said. He hurried off without sparing Yvonne a second look, towards where the young Lockwood was standing with a group of women in low-cut dresses. Tyler looked up as Jeremy approached, giving Elena and Damon a casual wave. Damon nodded back.

"Who was that?" Yvonne asked.

"A lone wolf," Damon said.

"Just a _friend_ of mine," Elena corrected him.

"Oh," Yvonne said.

"Elena! Oh my God, how _are_ you?" Caroline appeared at that moment, with Matt in tow. Her long auburn hair was swept up in a flowing ponytail. She was holding a glass full of dark liquid, and almost spilled its contents all over Elena when she gave her a big hug. "I haven't seen you for _weeks_!"

"Hey, Caroline," Elena said. "Matt."

"Hi, Elena," Matt said. He didn't look at Damon; even though Elena had long ago explained how all the rumors Katherine had spread about Damon were false, Matt was still suspicious of the vampire. "We didn't know if you were going to show up today."

"I said I would," Elena said.

"Wouldn't want to miss the _event of the year_," Damon said.

"Oh, Damon. Hi." Caroline finally looked in his direction, not seeming too thrilled to see him. "What a…pleasant surprise."

"You almost sound _sincere_. Bravo."

Caroline rolled her eyes, turning back to Elena. "Seriously, though. After everything that's been happening, I thought you'd rather stay home. With, um, the funeral and everything…"

Elena shifted uncomfortably, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah, um, tell your mom thanks for the cake when you see her again, all right?"

"Whatever. I guess I'll try. She's been at work, like, _all_ the time lately, trying to clean up that mess of Richard Lockwood being, you know, dead. Whenever I stopped by the other day to say hi, she wasn't even there."

"Oh. Well, when you see her again…" Elena paused for a few moments. "How are things going with you two, anyway? I heard that you got that new modeling job you wanted, Caroline."

Her eyes brightened, and she reached out to grab Matt's hand. "Yeah, it's in New York. Isn't that _awesome_? Matt and I have been talking–"

"Yeah, mostly you," Matt said.

"–and we decided that I should accept! We're going to pack up and move early next month. Can you believe it? New York _City_?"

"Wow, how _awesome_," Damon said in his best cheerleader voice.

Elena swallowed hard, trying to hide her sadness that her very best friend would be moving. Caroline and Matt would be so far away, and they probably wouldn't get to see each other again, if ever. There were always cell phones and email, but it wouldn't be the same. "That's…that's great, Caroline," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm – I'm really happy for you."

"What about you and Damon?" Caroline continued, looking back and forth between the mentioned. "Come to a decision yet? About becoming the, you know, _v word_?"

Elena quickly cleared her throat and turned to Yvonne, who had been listening to the conversation with interest. "Guys, this is Yvonne Tyler. She, um, showed up this morning asking for help. She's been, uh, followed by some suspicious guys, and needs a place to stay for a few weeks."

"Really," Matt said, raising his eyebrows. "Well, nice to meet you, Yvonne."

"I'm just _so_ grateful to Elena and Damon for taking me in," Yvonne said. "They've both been so kind to me. Damon especially. I _knew_ he wouldn't let me down." She beamed up at him, stepping a bit closer.

Damon cleared his throat. "I'll just…leave you four to catch up," he said. He gave Elena a quick kiss, then made a beeline for the refreshment table. His throat was feeling scratchy thanks to all the tasty human snacks milling around him in such closed quarters, and he really needed something to take the edge off. He picked up a glass of wine and raised it to his lips, taking a slow sip.

"Damon, hi."

"Ric. What's been up with _you_ lately?" Damon turned towards the familiar voice, though he most definitely wasn't in the mood for _chatting_. Alaric stood beside him, also holding a glass of wine.

"Nothing much. Just trying to help out around town. It's been _chaos_ since what happened a month ago," Alaric said, carefully not mentioning the exact event. Even though just about everyone in Mystic Falls knew about vampires, it was best not to bring it up. They were all trying to forget about Katherine and her minions, and the hell they had brought down on this peaceful town for roughly five years. "What remains of the Council has been scrambling to put everything back together, and elect a new mayor. They're going to hold elections in about two weeks, I think."

Damon nodded. "You should run. It might be nice for Mystic Falls _not_ to have a complete idiot seeing over it for a change. And the fact that you don't turn into a slobbering beast from the pits of hell might be a plus, too. Or is there something you're not telling me?" He took a sip of his wine and smirked.

"Ha, ha," Alaric said. "And I don't think I'm exactly cut out for being the mayor of Mystic Falls. It involves a lot more supernatural stuff than I'm comfortable dealing with on a daily basis. And I'm just a history teacher."

"A history teacher who can't die, and carries a crossbow and bottle of vervain in the trunk of his car," Damon said.

"Keep your voice down, will you? That's not something I want getting around. Besides, I think _Tyler_ might run."

"Tyler Lockwood?" Damon glanced towards where he'd last seen Tyler, and saw him and Jeremy talking together in low tones. "There goes my no slobbering beasts for mayor idea down the drain."

"I think Tyler would be good for this town," Alaric said seriously. "He's not his father."

Damon was still staring over at the wolf in human form. "No, I guess he's not," he said.

"So how are you and Elena after…Stefan? I haven't had the chance to talk to either one of you since the funeral…"

He flinched at the mention of his deceased younger brother, and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Talking about Stefan was his one weakness, the chink in his supposedly impenetrable armor. Even after so many weeks had passed, he still couldn't believe what Stefan had done. He had knowingly sacrificed himself, and endured the most excruciating death imaginable, just to save Elena from Katherine's clutches. Damon didn't know if he would have been strong enough to do what Stefan had done.

"We're dealing," he said, and took a long drink.

"Good. That's good to know." Alaric seemed distracted, and Damon looked to see someone waving at them. "I'd better go see what she wants," he said. "She's the mother of one of my students."

"I highly doubt she wants to talk about any _studently_ affairs," Damon insinuated knowingly, winking at the slim blonde woman as she continued to wave enthusiastically.

Alaric actually blushed, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Well…it was nice talking to you, Damon."

"Uh-huh." Damon watched the other man walk away, then turned his attention back to the refreshments. He reached for a bowl of grapes and popped one into his mouth.

"Damon!"

He choked, grimacing at the all-too familiar voice. "It's good for you that I'm a vampire and can't choke to death, or I _would_ kill you for inflicting such an embarrassing demise on me," he said.

"Oh, sorry. I just wanted to talk to you," Yvonne said.

"So talk," he said, returning to his perusing of the extensive collection of tasty morsels.

"I wanted to talk to you about the men trying to kill me, now that Elena isn't around," she said. "The last thing I want is to scare her or Jeremy."

"Really. I'm sure breezing in with a bomb and a bunch of men in cloaks hunting you didn't scare them at _all_." He looked over towards Elena, who was still with Caroline and Matt, and saw her looking back. Her lips were pressed into a tight line. He waved, in hopes of defusing her irritation.

Besides, it had been _her_ idea to drag Yvonne along in the first place, not his.

"Believe me, scaring them wasn't my intention. I was afraid for my _life_. I still am."

"Oh, yeah. Sure." He ate another grape. "Mind telling me what's up with the split personality disorder you seem to have going on?"

She froze for a few seconds. "What?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "One minute you're the demented cheerleader in charge of my unofficial fan club, and the next you're acting like James Bond, witch style. What's your game, Yvonne?"

"I don't know what you mean," she murmured.

"Fine, we'll go with that for now. You don't know what I _mean_. For some reason, I'm not buying that." Damon finished his glass and looked around for somewhere to put it; seeing no waiters or anything, he put it down beside a plate of cheese and crackers. "I _have_ known witches before you suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Yvonne. And let's just say I'm wised up to your kind. I _don't_ like people who go around stabbing me with vervain needles, got it? Just a tip."

She smiled frostily. "Really, Damon. Is this necessary? I'm not here to hurt you in any way, no matter what deluded ideas you may have about witches in general. I'm just here for protection."

"What exactly do you know about these unfashionable goons following you?" Damon asked, abruptly changing the subject. Yvonne didn't react in any visible way.

"Nothing much, I'm afraid."

"Thanks. That's _not_ very helpful."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just know that they want me dead. I want answers _just_ as much as you do."

"See, that's where you're wrong. I don't give a damn who these _cloaked men_ are," Damon said. "I just want you gone. My girlfriend doesn't like you, so neither do I. You might want to come up with some credible answers to my questions, and fast." He smiled, as though to dissolve some of the thick layers of tension lingering around them. "Just something to keep in mind."

Yvonne delicately bit her lip. "Believe me, Damon, the last thing I want is to come between you and Elena. I'll only stay as long as I need to, then I'll be gone. All I ask is that you protect me from those men."

He nodded without having to think it over. "I will. The last thing _I_ want is to have the house blown up because they're sniffing around for you," he said.

"_Thank_ you, Damon," she whispered. "You have no idea how much I appreciate everything you're doing for me." Before Damon could react, she stood up on her tiptoes and brushed an intimate kiss across his cheek. Her eyelashes fluttered softly against his skin.

Damon jerked away from her, nearly backing into a man walking past. She blinked innocently at him, seemingly oblivious to his frustration. He quickly looked back towards where he'd last seen Elena, hoping that her attention was duly captured by Caroline.

She wasn't there. Instead, he got a clear glimpse of her back as she marched out the nearest door, slamming it behind her.

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I thought you should know something VERY important. *mysterious smile* Damon told me he thinks all of you should review. And you don't want to disappoint him, do you? :P


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** Unfortunately, my last story has been proved wrong by recent episodes of the show. The way you become a werewolf is by killing someone, and you can only turn during the full moon, apparently. But I'm WAY too lazy to go back and change my previous story around, so in this, werewolves Change for the first time at a certain age, like Tyler did, and after that, whenever they want to. Just a little something to keep in mind…

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Chapter Four

Elena was furious. She was marching down a long, empty hallway that seemed to lead towards the library's staff-only area, insides churning with anger. Her teeth were gritted together, which was about the only thing keeping her from shouting several colorful expletives.

Yvonne had actually had the nerve to _kiss Damon_ in the middle of a crowded room, when she was watching! What was that bitch's _problem_? And more importantly, why had Damon let her? She thought that he wanted to turn her into a vampire, spend eternity with her. And now he was letting some random witch kiss him in public. Teamed up with the weird way he'd been acting lately, Elena wasn't sure what to think.

Taking a deep breath, she stopped and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. It was quiet in the hallway, and she could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from where she'd left the other guests.

_You're only overreacting,_ a more rational side of her brain protested. Damon had leapt back when Yvonne kissed his cheek, and she hadn't yet seen him return Yvonne's too-obvious advances in any way. In fact, he was acting more like Stefan than his old self, the man he'd been before his time in the tomb and the battle with Katherine. Stefan never would have cheated on her, either.

Stefan. The thought of the other Salvatore brother made tears burn Elena's eyes as she opened them again. He'd been so brave and kind and sweet, everything she'd ever wanted. They'd been the perfect match. But then the cruel hand of fate had snatched him away from her, forever. She would never see him again.

At least she had Damon. She loved him just as much as she had Stefan, if not more, and in a different way. Their relationship was smoldering with passion, and it was all she could do not to press her lips to his every time he opened them to speak. She was happy with him, and he had honestly changed since they'd been together, for the better. She shouldn't be doubting him.

Now if only he would explain why he kept pulling away from her. What was he hiding?

Elena pushed away from the wall, inhaling another shaky breath. She needed to get back, let Damon know she wasn't mad at him. The last thing she wanted was to drive a wedge between them, let Yvonne get to her. She was just a stupid witch, not something to get excited over. Or so she told herself.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

She spun towards the noise, just in time to see a cloaked man standing behind her, a huge sword glinting in his grasp. "Oh my–"

Something crashed against her head from behind, and she crumpled to the carpet.

* * *

Damon angrily pushed Yvonne away from him. She stumbled dramatically, nearly crashing into the refreshment table, and somehow made it look like she hadn't done anything at all to receive the brunt end of his fury.

"Damon, please, I'm sorry if I've–" Yvonne began helplessly.

"I've had enough of your _crap_," he snapped, clenching both hands into fists in an effort to control his temper, "and I'm seriously considering ripping your pretty _head_ off. So shut the hell up." The last thing he needed was to be blamed for her long-waiting demise. "And before you ask, yeah, that was intended to be offensive. So say it was, and make my day."

Her purple eyes had filled with tears. "I – I didn't mean…"

He didn't have time for this; he needed to go after Elena, apologize to her before she stormed off and decided to _stay_ pissed at him. Ignoring Yvonne's blundering attempts at an apology, he brushed past her and strode briskly in the direction he'd seen Elena go.

And stumbled to a halt as Matt and Caroline both stepped into his path.

"Not really in the mood for more I'm-so-macho-so-don't-try-to-kill-any-defenseless-humans-on-my-watch _chatting_," Damon said, moving around them, still angling for the door Elena had disappeared through. "So _please_ excuse me while I go find Elena and–"

Matt took a big step back into Damon's path, folding both arms over his chest. His expression was hard. Caroline stood a few feet away, biting her lip.

Damon slowly glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Get out of my way," he said to Elena's ex, slowly and distinctly, "or I'll crush you like a _twig_. I don't care whether Elena likes you or not, because _I _don't. We clear?"

"Elena needs some time on her own, to think," Matt said, not looking particularly frightened by Damon's threat. "And by _on her own_, I don't mean you following her and compelling her into thinking that everything's perfectly fine between the two of you."

"What the hell are you talking about, Donovan?"

"Why else would she have agreed to become a vampire?" Caroline said. "There's no _way_ the Elena I knew would have agreed to something like this, except maybe for Stefan. She loved him so much. But Stefan's _dead_ now." Her tone was rising, and several nearby people glanced over. "Elena _hated_ you, Damon. She told me so over and over. And then, suddenly, you sweep in like some kind of dark-caped superhero and knock her off her feet and keep right on going."

"Caroline–" Matt began, trying to put himself between her and Damon.

She ignored him and kept talking, steadily building up steam. "Stefan's been in the ground for a freakin' _month_, and she's already acting like he never even existed! Why the hell else would she have done that?"

"What are you getting at?" Damon's voice was deadly quiet, like rumbling thunder before the storm struck.

"We all know you're compelling her," she said, tone much lower now, and heavy with venom and fury. "No one in their right mind would let themselves be turned into an undead _monster_ who could burst into flames at the slightest touch of sunlight. Look what happened to Stefan. You think she really wants to be like you, damned to hell? Like _Katherine_ was?"

"Caroline, that's enough," Matt said, shoving her behind him and finally stopping the tirade of words.

But it was too late. Damon was frozen, staring at the pair of them like they'd just stripped naked and started dancing on the table of refreshments. His head throbbed with the last few words Caroline had spoke as they echoed through his ears, over and over again. What if she was right? What if he'd been compelling Elena all this time without even knowing, forcing her to feel love for him that wasn't even real? What if–

He heard the high-pitched whizzing sound before he saw anything. It effectively cut into his wordless lamenting, forcing him to shove his worries to the back of his mind for later as he started to look up towards the noise. Then the sharp spike of pain slammed into his right shoulder, sending him reeling backwards towards the wall. Caroline screamed.

Feeling numb and slightly dazed, he looked down at his shoulder. Blood that looked black was spreading in a circular stain across his shirt, and a wooden arrow with a feathered tip protruded from his shoulder. For the moment, the surprise overwhelmed the pain, and all he could do was stare down at the arrow and try to figure out how the hell it had gotten there. They were in a _library_. Who the hell went around shooting people with arrows in a _library_?

Across the room, a door slammed open, revealing a wide, dark corridor that happened to be full of men wearing black cloaks with wide hoods up to obscure their faces. Each of them held a different weapon: there were longbows with quivers of arrows at the ready, swords, maces, and heavy metal clubs. And all the men seemed to be looking right at Damon.

"What the hell?" Matt said.

"Oh this is _not_ good," Damon said.

The cloaked men shouted a thunderous battle cry, then swarmed into the room in one sudden movement. There were nearly a hundred of them, all waving their weapons, and heading straight for where Damon stood with Matt and Caroline.

"Damon, help me! They've come to kill me!" Yvonne appeared beside him, not seeming to notice the protruding arrow, and clutched frantically at his arm. "Oh God, you've got to help me! They're going to _kill_ me!"

"Kill you? Why would they be trying to kill you?" Caroline demanded, peering around Matt to stare at the witch. "They could be here for the, you know, _bloodsucking vampire_!"

"Not helping," Damon said through gritted teeth, as everyone in the library realized that something bad was happening and started to run and scream, trying to escape. The stream of panicking humans momentarily delayed the progress of cloaked men, and he took advantage of this and ripped the arrow from his shoulder. He dropped it to the floor and leaned against the wall, grimacing in pain. "Donovon, you need to help me keep Yvonne here away from those cloaked goons," he panted, fighting to keep the pain from his voice. "All you need to know right now is that they're going to try to kill her, and Elena and I promised to keep her safe. I'm not going to be able to stop them on my own."

Instead of questioning the vampire, Matt just clenched his jaw and nodded tightly. "Okay. But our conversation from earlier isn't over, got that, vampire?"

"Didn't think it was. I'll look forward to the rest of it." He leered at Matt, who looked annoyed.

And then the hooded army was on them, as most of the humans had safely escaped, clearing the large room. Matt and Damon hurriedly moved to stand side by side without pausing to talk it over, putting Caroline and Yvonne behind them. The hordes of men attacked, again shouting their battle cry.

Damon couldn't keep track of Matt then, too busy fending off the many swords and daggers and stakes that kept coming at him. Attacks fell down from all sides, dozens of men converging and all attempting to take him out. He knocked aside the blade of a sword as it cut into the side of his throat, and darted away as a stake came dangerously close to piercing his heart.

He leapt out of the knot of attackers and pounced on the closest one, grabbing his neck and jerking it roughly to one side. By the time his victim had hit the floor, he had already kicked two more out of the way and shattered the spine of another with a solid punch.

Caroline was shrieking, and Damon dodged another flying arrow and plunged back into the crowd in search of her and Yvonne. He found both women with their backs pressed to the wall, Caroline using her purse to knock aside the men coming at them. It was apparently a lot heavier than it looked. Those that she actually succeeded in hitting each fell back for a few moments, stunned. But her luck ran out just as Damon reached them, and one of the men ducked a blow and raised his club at her.

Damon's arm shot out in a blur, fingers fastening around the man's neck. He ignored the bite of his fangs trying to force their way out of his gums, and squeezed his hand shut. The man made lots of choking sounds, body flailing wildly, then went still. Damon dropped him without a second look.

"Th…thanks," Caroline gasped.

"That's me, dashing knight in black armor," he said, then dived back into the mêlée.

He found Matt near the center of the thrashing crowd of assassins, doing a pretty good job of defending himself for someone without a lot of experience. As he approached, pausing to take care of several more attackers, the blonde received a sharp punch in the jaw and went down hard. Damon was distracted as a third arrow grazed his arm, sending him staggering backwards, and he could only watch as a sword was raised high above Matt and began plunging downward towards his undefended chest in what seemed like slow motion.

Jeremy raced over, and leapt lightly into the air while twisting his body around with surprising speed. His foot slammed into the man holding the sword and easily dropped him. He landed on the balls of his feet and pulled the dazed Matt back to his feet.

"Nice moves," Damon said over the sounds of battle, trying not to sound _too_ impressed.

Elena's brother shrugged, then pulled a silver-handled dagger from the back of his jeans and disappeared into the throng of black cloaks.

"Damon!" Alaric raced over, holding a thick wooden stake in each hand, panting. One arm was bleeding slightly, but the wound didn't seem too bad. "What the hell is going on?"

Damon kicked aside a pair of men without bothering to look first. He watched as a dark, furry shape raced past behind Alaric. Tyler, he assumed, all wolfed out. "Maybe they all came to pay fines for their overdue books," he said with a smirk.

"Seriously, Damon. Are all these people here for you?" Alaric thrust a stake out and caught one of the men off guard, sending him plummeting to the ground. "What the hell did you do this time?"

"I'm _offended_, Ric, offended that you automatically assume I did something bad enough to deserve such a force of evil minions coming after me," Damon said, taking out another man who'd tried to stake him from the side. "I haven't killed anyone in a while, or attacked any helpless maidens, so they _can't_ be after me."

Alaric looked anything but amused.

"You're no fun, Ric, no fun at all. And actually, this little merry band of murderers is here for Yvonne. Before you ask, _don't_ ask. She's some witchy little bitch who showed up on the front porch with a bomb this morning. Over there." He pointed to where Yvonne was just visible against the wall with Caroline, slapping aside an arrow aimed for his head.

"Oh, nothing more than the usual then," Alaric said dryly, twin stakes flashing out around him in rapid succession. "I don't suppose you've seen Elena around anywhere, have you?"

Damon forced back a flash of panic. He couldn't afford to worry about her right now. "She's not here. She'll be okay." The words were more to reassure himself than Alaric.

"Damon!" The shrill voice came from just behind him. Yvonne. He started to turn, then felt an explosion of pain throughout his skull as something made contact with the back of his head. He dropped to his knees.

Alaric noticed that the vampire was in trouble, and threw one of his stakes. It hit the man about to skewer Damon with a wickedly curved sword head-on, sending him to land in a heap on the ground. "You okay?" he shouted.

"Just peachy!" Damon staggered to his feet, blinking rapidly to clear some of the blurriness from his vision, fighting to ignore the agony in his skull. He batted aside some goons heading for Alaric's blind side, and concentrated on not falling. His day would only get worse if he managed to get himself staked through the heart.

Yvonne was squealing and trying to kick at a couple of hooded men, so Damon turned and disposed of them. He opened his mouth to demand what the hell she was doing, straying from the relative safety she'd been in with Caroline, and noticed a flash of pink from the corner of his eye, lost in a sea of black cloaks. Elena was wearing pink, he remembered, head snapping in the direction of the splash of color.

He saw her. She was limp in the arms of one of the cloaked men, who was currently hurrying towards the exit near the front of the library. He saw red, and fury splashed over him. He tried to get to her, shoving apart the many assassins like they weighed nothing. All he could see was the dangling curtain of brown hair as she faded into the distance, farther and farther away from him. He had to get to her, had to save her…

Yvonne yelled his name, but he didn't look back. The spear pieced his chest from the left side. He didn't even have time to cry out before the blackness swallowed him whole. His last, desperate thought echoed through his mind as he lost consciousness.

_Elena._

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Reviews? Oh, please. I have LOTS planned for the next couple of chapters! :D


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** Chapter in which Damon gets whumped. A lot. Just sayin'. *evil cackle*

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Chapter Five

Alaric heard the horrible tearing sound and looked up just in time to see Damon hit the ground, a long wooden spear protruding from his chest. A stain of blood was already spreading out from the wound, and Damon wasn't moving. His face was deathly pale, eyes pressed shut.

The history teacher jerked his last remaining stake from the chest of the cloaked man he'd just taken out, and rushed to Damon. He would defend him as best as he could for as long as possible. Even though he only had a single sharp piece of wood against swords and longbows and spiked clubs to do it with.

"Behind you!" screeched the raven-haired girl Damon had told him about, Yvonne. She was standing beside the vampire's fallen body, purple eyes wide with alarm.

Alaric spun in a circle just in time to block the sword as it crashed down towards his head. The metal blade clanked against his stake and he gritted his teeth, arms shaking as he forced the sword away from his face. A thin crack was slowly forming across the wood of his lone weapon, and the man wielding the sword didn't seem at all worn out. He was just biding his time until he could easily stab Alaric a few dozen times without any resistance. Alaric _really_ didn't want to die today.

He felt himself sinking downward under the strain of the attack, knees slowly giving out and arms steadily weakening. He was forced to his knees just as the stake snapped in half with a cracking noise. The hooded man smiled, and slashed the sword down.

"Retreat!" The deep voice rang out across the crowd, and all of the assassins reacted immediately. The man with the sword let it fall harmlessly to his side, then turned and disappeared into the sea of black cloaks. Alaric stared after him, lips slightly parted with surprise.

They were leaving? Why the hell would they do that? After they'd obviously gone to so much trouble to invade the library and fight its inhabitants, they'd just decided to leave…after Damon had been wounded. Alaric's eyes widened, and he shot Damon a sideways glance. Damon still lay motionless on the floor, seeming even paler than before.

"Where're they all going?" Caroline appeared beside him, a small cut on her forehead bleeding but otherwise fine. She offered Alaric a hand, hauling him to his feet.

"I don't know," Alaric said, frowning.

"Caroline!" Matt appeared beside her, bruised and battered, and quickly tore a strip from the bottom hem of his shirt. He pressed it to her forehead, ignoring all protests that she was perfectly okay.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Yvonne dropped to her knees beside Damon, hands fluttering uselessly. "Someone _do_ something!"

"Tyler," Alaric said, rushing to kneel beside Damon's prone body. The wolf jogged over and stood at his side, long tongue rolling from his lips as he panted. "You need to Change back and help me with Damon, okay? He's hurt pretty badly." Tyler bobbed his head and padded backward a few steps. The fur all over his canine body seemed to shimmer as the Change started.

Alaric turned back to Damon, who wasn't breathing. He felt for a pulse at the base of Damon's throat; his skin was cold and clammy and covered with tiny splatters of blood. A burst of panic surged through him when he couldn't find a pulse before he remembered that _of course _Damon wouldn't have one. He was already dead, after all. But things still didn't look good. The spear was still protruding, and more and more blood flowed freely.

"Please help him; do whatever you have to," Yvonne said, strange eyes gleaming. Alaric tried to school his expression into a nonjudgmental one, despite the wariness he felt at her presence. He might be wrong, but this woman didn't seem very trustworthy. Though if Damon had wanted her to be protected, then she had to be on their side. And that was what counted.

Tyler staggered to join them, clothes torn and hanging loosely from his thin frame. A collection of purple blotches adorned his face and one shoulder, and he was limping. "What do we do now? Yank it out?"

"No, we've got to be careful. If we pull it out wrong, all of his internal organs could be destroyed."

"Oh God," Caroline said.

Matt was still holding the piece of cloth to his girlfriend's forehead. "Wouldn't he just heal again? He's a vampire."

"Even vampires can be lethally injured," Alaric said mildly. "Tyler, help me lift him. We need to put him on that table over there."

Tyler nodded briskly, then bent at the waist and grabbed Damon's shoulders. Alaric stumbled into a standing position and picked up on Damon's legs. The two men made their way over to the refreshment table, Damon's limp body swinging between them. The other three followed. Yvonne swept both hands along the table, knocking most of the dishes and trays of food to the floor with a crash. Alaric and Tyler deposited their burden onto the wooden surface, which luckily had been built sturdily enough to hold the extra weight.

"Okay, man, what now?" Tyler said, running one hand through his sweaty hair.

"We've got to get the spear out," Alaric said grimly. "Matt?" His former student accurately guessed the meaning of his words and gently took Caroline's shoulders, turning her away. Again, he ignored her many protests.

Taking a deep breath, Alaric firmly gripped the spear. It was cool and smooth in his hands. He nodded to himself, then pulled upward with all his strength.

* * *

Damon jolted back into awareness, eyes flying open. It took several seconds before his eyes adjusted again, then he found himself to be laying on top of what had been the library's refreshment table. Two Carolines were standing over him, both of them with messy red hair, falling from where it had previously been suspended in a ponytail. A few blinks forced the pair of women to snap back into one, and he sighed with relief despite himself. "Thank God," he muttered vaguely.

Caroline was confused. "Whatever, vampire. I won't even pretend to know what you're talking about." She paused, staring at him with more scrutiny than Damon would have ever thought her capable. "How are you doing?" she asked, voice much softer now.

"How long was I out?" he asked instead of responding.

She looked annoyed, but answered anyway. "About ten minutes."

He nodded, then froze, noticing for the first time that a small white bandage decorated the left side of her forehead. He could see a faint stain of red. His breathing increased, and he clearly felt his pupils dilate. His fangs pricked at his gums, trying to force their way out. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"Caroline, why don't you go check on Matt? He's over by the nonfiction section." Alaric appeared beside her and gestured in the appropriate direction.

"Um, okay. Whatever." She gave both of them an odd look, but did as he said.

"Thanks," Damon said breathlessly, turning his head away and forcing himself back under control. "Weak from blood loss and all that. I need to get out and find some Bambis as soon as possible."

Alaric nodded without saying anything, offering a hand. He pulled Damon into a sitting position. Damon winced in pain and gritted his teeth to keep the expletives he could feel brewing locked safely inside. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Uh-huh. Walking on sunshine."

"You're lucky to be alive. You got the spear treatment." Alaric pointed to a long wooden object laying on the ground a few feet away, about two feet of it stained with dried blood.

"I'm not exactly _alive_, but I get the gist of what you're saying," Damon said. There was a brief pause. "Sorry, can't thank you again. Twice would extend past my maximum capacities for the day."

He smiled. "Right, got it."

At that moment, Tyler strode over, a dark frown spread across his forehead. He didn't smile or even look relieved that Damon was conscious.

"Who died, wolf boy?" Silence, and Damon stared suspiciously between the other two men. There was clearly something they weren't telling him. But what could it be? What death could possibly affect him enough to make them not say anything? Who–

He froze as the thought struck him, as painful as a ton of bricks. No. No, it couldn't be. He would _know_ if she was dead, as unrealistic and Stefan-y as that sounded. "Where's Elena?" he demanded. The last time he'd seen her was just before he'd been stabbed, being carried towards the exit by one of the many hooded minions. Surely someone else had seen, had saved her. They couldn't have just let her be taken.

"She's gone, Damon. I'm sorry," Alaric said.

Just as Damon was about to boil over with rage, Tyler quickly added, "Not dead, just missing. I picked up on her scent, but it ends outside the front doors. She was probably taken in someone's car."

He immediately dropped down to the floor. He had to go see for himself that Elena had disappeared, had to search for her. He staggered and had to quickly reach out and steady himself on the table, while Tyler and Alaric both pretended not to notice.

"So you don't know if something's happened to her," he said. "She's just missing." Maybe she'd managed to escape; maybe she was on her way back…

"Elena's scent was completely mingled with an unfamiliar odor, the scent of whoever was carrying her probably, until it completely disappeared out front," Tyler said. "I don't think she managed to get away, if that's what you're thinking."

"Damon–" Alaric began, sympathy heavily etched across his face.

"Damon!" Yvonne cried from across the room. They all looked up to see her rushing over.

"I'm thinking of changing my name," Damon said loudly. "What d'you say, wolf boy? Adolpho or Casimiro? Or do I look more like a Coinnneach? I _am_ devilishly handsome, after all."

Tyler said nothing, staring at Damon like he thought he was crazy.

Yvonne stopped beside Damon and touched his cheek with the back of her hand. "Damon, oh thank God! When that–that man stabbed you, I thought you were…"

He snarled and slapped her hand away from his face. The angry sound of flesh against flesh echoed through the silent room. She grabbed her injured hand and stared up at him with enormous eyes.

"What the hell, man?" Matt strode over to join them, Caroline on his heels. "What's your _problem_?"

"I didn't mean to do anything to upset you," Yvonne said, lower lip trembling. She could have won an Oscar.

Something inside Damon snapped. He was so _sick_ of Yvonne and her pretending. Half the time she acted mysterious and all-knowing, and the rest of it she was the saint of all witches. Now was one of those saintly moments, conveniently making everyone stare at him like _he_ was the bad guy, even Ric. And never mind that he was, usually. He just didn't like it.

"She's behind all of this," Damon said, struggling to control his emotions, to keep them from showing too clearly in his voice. "She's been trying to get between me and Elena from the start, pretending all those hoodies were after her and saying that she's some fabled witch princess. If there's _anything_ I don't like, it's witches. Especially little traitorous ones. And don't think I believe the _convenient_ story that someone else hit me over the back of the head earlier. You yelled, then I got to be a baseball. Coincidence? I think _not_."

"But I didn't–"

"I think you're taking this a little too far," Alaric said. "She says she didn't do it, Damon, just calm down."

"She's _lying_."

"He could be right," Caroline said softly.

Matt stared at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "What, you're on his side now, Car?"

"I'm not on anybody's _side_. I just think that there might be the littlest possibility that he's right," she said defensively. "I mean, none of those thugs even _touched_ her. And if she's really a, you know, witch, shouldn't she have been able to use some witchy mumbo-jumbo and save the day?"

"She's got a point," Tyler said.

"I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time," Yvonne said, eyes shining as she stared straight at Caroline. "There were just so many of them, and I…I panicked."

"Hmmm, likely story," Damon said.

She bit her lip, now looking at her feet instead of any of those standing around her. "I didn't want to say anything, because you'd only make fun of me."

"Let me guess. You have an _evil twin_ who was responsible for trying to kill me. Again."

"I don't know magic," she blurted. "I was raised so that I wouldn't have to defend myself, in the center of the most elite of witch societies. There was–there was never really any need. There were plenty of other witches around, and men who could protect us if need be…"

"There's your first mistake," Caroline said. "Don't rely on men to protect you. They're crap at it most of the time."

"You've grown quite the backbone," Damon said. "I don't like it. Mutt, control your pesky little girlfriend."

"It's _Matt_. And leave Caroline alone," he snapped.

"I can take care of myself," Caroline said, carefully-mascared eyes narrowing.

"I know, I know, but you're just a girl, Car, and–"

"Sexist, much? You're _so_ going to be sleeping on the couch tonight!"

"I hate to interrupt this domestic drama, but Yvonne? Trying to hurt me and Elena? It might be a little more important than your squabble."

"I swear that I didn't do anything, to you _or_ Elena," Yvonne said. "I wouldn't even try. Both of you have been so kind to me."

"Just drop it, Damon," Alaric added. "In case you've forgotten, we need to start searching for Elena."

He nodded shortly, letting it go. He'd be watching Yvonne Tyler. He's be watching her _very_ closely.

"Hey," Tyler said suddenly. "Where's Jeremy?"

* * *

When Elena woke up with a gasp, she found that she was sitting on the cold stone floor of a dark, damp room. From what she could tell, after blinking a few times to adjust her eyes, it seemed like some sort of basement or cellar. Crates and other rusty pieces of junk were scattered throughout the area, and the smell of mold was heavy on the air.

She gingerly touched the back of her head, and felt dried blood coated across her skull. She quickly dropped her hand, afraid of discovering protruding brain matter or some other gruesome injury with the potential to be fatal, and again scanned her surroundings. There was a window about eight feet off the ground, imbedded in the wall opposite her. The glass was so smudged with dirt and grime that absolutely no light was capable of flickering inside. But it meant she wasn't completely beneath the ground. And it was a way out.

Stumbling to her feet, she reached out and grabbed onto the wall to keep herself from falling. Then she staggered towards the window and grabbed at an old wooden crate. It took all her strength and made both arms shake under the strain, but she managed to push it over to the window.

Elena climbed up onto it, then stood on her very tiptoes and tried to peer out. By gripping the small concrete edge sticking out away from the glass, she managed to put herself at eyelevel with the glass. She tried to wipe away some of the grime, but it was caked on too thick.

She let go of the windowsill and dropped back onto the crate with a solid thump. It shuddered under her weight. After tearing at the hem of her shirt and freeing a jagged piece of cloth, she carefully wrapped it around her right wrist and took a deep breath. Then she punched it straight through the window.

"Oh my God," she gasped, clutching the hand to her chest and biting down hard on her lip to keep from crying out any louder. Blood, thick and red, oozed from her hand. Struggling to ignore the burning of her torn skin, she again stood on tiptoe to peer out the hole she had made.

And immediately let her shoulders slump with despair.

Directly on the other side of the glass was a set of iron bars, solid and immovable. Just to be sure, she reached through the hole, cutting up both arms in the process, and grabbed them. They didn't even move; they were stuck deep in the concrete of the wall. "Damn."

Behind her came a sudden rattling noise, like a ring of keys being jangled. She spun wildly, almost falling off the crate, and for the first time noticed a door near the corner of the room. The doorknob turned, and it slowly creaked open.

**

* * *

**

**WOW, I loved the last episode that aired! (_Masquerade_) What do you guys think will**** happen next? And who's *spoiler* that jerk who took Elena? Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Also, I'm going to be participating in NaNoWriMo for the entirety of November, attempting to complete a 50,000 word novel in just thirty days. So I might not get to update this fic (among others) very much until December. So sorry! O.O**


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** UPDATE!

* * *

Chapter Six

Elena reacted instantly, grabbing a large piece of glass from the windowsill and leaping down from the crate. She ran at the door, which was still opening, and gave a battle scream while raising the shard over her head at the same time. She could do this, she could escape–

The door suddenly picked up speed and slammed open, catching her in face and throwing her to the floor. An explosion of pain formed behind her eyes, and as the glass cut into her already injured palm, she was forced to let it drop to the floor with a clatter. She gritted her teeth together, then looked up.

A man in a hooded cloak stood over her. He was smiling, and not in a very nice way.

She felt a surge of fear, and moved her hand frantically across the cold stone floor without looking away from him, searching for the shard of glass. Where the hell _was_ it…?

But then, he stepped away and clasped his hands behind his back as though in a gesture of respect. And waited.

The door opened a bit wider, and a strangely familiar man in a tidy suit stepped inside, closing it behind him. "Hello, Elena."

"_Uncle John_?" She hadn't seen him in years, not since her parents' funeral so long ago. He looked exactly the same as she remembered, albeit a bit older and with an odd gleam in his eyes. "What are…why are you–"

"Elena, Elena, Elena. They will be plenty of time for questions later, so just calm down," he said in a weirdly familiar manner, considering that they weren't exactly the closest of family. "You're hurt. Why don't you let me bring in some bandages and antiseptic?"

Determined not to show any signs of weakness, she quickly got to her feet and backed away. "No. Now tell what the hell is going on."

"Young people used to be so polite to their elders. Not anymore, obviously."

She was a bit dizzy, and clenched her injured hands into fists. The red hot burst of pain quickly cleared her fuzzy head. "What's going on? You're the one who had me brought here, aren't you?" she said, throwing out a wild guess.

"_Very_ good. I'm glad that I don't seem to have underestimated you in any way. You remind me of your mother."

"My mother?" Elena didn't think she was anything at all like her mother had been.

"Oh, yes." He idly examined his fingernails, then brushed them against his collar. "She has quite the temper, sometimes more than I like. Though of course you wouldn't know that, as you've never met her before."

So that was it, she realized. Her uncle was crazy; he'd gone around the bend. There was absolutely no other explanation for any of this. "Cut the crap. What do you want?"

He cleared his throat. "First of all, I really don't approve of your choice in boyfriends, Elena. So I've decided to take the initiative and do something about it."

Her blood ran cold, but she quickly hid any reactions to his words that might have shown on her face. But somehow, the bizarrely delighted look he wore made her think he could see right through her façade.

"Before you ask, let's just say that I have _every_ right to take an interest in whom you date," he said, as though reading her thoughts. "But it seems that my original plan is flawed. The men I hired were unable to complete even the simple task I asked of them." He paused to glare at the hooded man, who didn't meet his icy gaze. "And so I've been forced to come up with a plan B."

She was afraid to ask what it was, but did anyway.

"You're going to kill Damon Salvatore."

She just stared at him, waiting for the punch line. When he said nothing, only waited expectantly, she laughed out loud. "I am _not_ going to kill Damon. And if you think there's any way you can convince me to change my mind, you're crazy."

He sighed. "I was afraid you would say that, as brainwashed as the vampire's got you." He nodded to the cloaked man, who stepped over to the door and opened it. Elena tensed, readying herself for the worst. But even that didn't prepare her for what happened next. On the other side of the door stood another cloaked man. He shoved the slim figure standing in front of him into the room, then turned and left. The figure, who staggered and fell to the concrete with a strangled gasp, was Jeremy.

"Oh my God!" She couldn't stop the words from exploding out of her mouth at the sight of him. He looked awful. His hair was drooping into his eyes, and a ragged piece of cloth had been pulled across his lips and tied in the back, stretching them in a way that looked very painful. Over the gag, his dark eyes were wide and scared. A large, purple bruise blossomed on the left side of his face.

Elena ran over and fell to her knees beside him, ignoring the concrete that torn at her skin. "Jere, oh my God, are you okay?" She carefully helped him sit up, and he made a muffled sound through the gag. She looked accusingly up at her uncle, who had been watching the proceedings with some interest. "Why are you doing this? Let him go!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that, Elena. You see, I have a purpose for young Jeremy, and it's one he must fulfill if my plan is going to succeed this time around. It's quite simple, really."

"If you don't let him go, you bastard, I'll–"

"You'll what? Scream bloody murder and hope your precious pet vampire comes to save you? Damon Salvatore is nothing but a monster, Elena. He doesn't care for you. The only regret he might have if you died was that your blood had been wasted in vain, and he hadn't gotten to taste it."

She smiled coldly, grimly. "But that's where you're wrong, _John_. He has tasted my blood. Twice. And I gave it to him willingly." She had a moment's worth of satisfaction at the mingled expression of horror and shock on his face, until he snapped angrily to the cloaked man,

"Get her up now. I want this over."

Before she could react, the man grabbed her shoulders and wrenched her to her feet, tearing her away from Jeremy. He threw her, hard, in the opposite direction, and she staggered backwards, arms windmilling. She fell hard on the ground, and before she had finished stumbling back to her feet, the man had pulled a knife and pressed it to Jeremy's throat. Its blade was cold and silver, glittering wickedly in the dim lighting.

She froze, staring with horrified fascination at the knife against her little brother's throat. As she watched, a small trickle of blood that looked almost black trickled free. Jeremy swallowed convulsively, and the knife cut a little deeper.

She whirled desperately to her Uncle John, who had apparently been waiting for her reaction. "Why are you _doing_ this? He's your nephew, your brother's son! How could you let him be hurt like this?"

He shrugged carelessly. "I need leverage, to put it simply. Jeremy is here to ensure that you agree to kill Damon Salvatore, and ultimately, finally, rid the world of his filth."

Jeremy was watching her, waiting for her decision, eyes still wide. He made another muffled sound through the gag when he saw that she was watching. He slowly shook his head. The knife cut deeper still into his skin. She blinked several times, feeling a strange wetness in the corners of both eyes. She wasn't going to cry, not in front of John Gilbert and his crony. After clearing her throat, she turned back to her uncle and said firmly, "No. I won't do it. If you want to kill Damon, you're going to have to try it yourself." _And hopefully die in the process,_ she added silently.

"Don't you have any particular urges to kill him yourself? He's cheating on you with that witch, the dark-haired one," John said. "You'd have to be blind not to have noticed."

"Yvonne? Damon's _not_ cheating with her," she snapped, rage making her vision seemed blurred around the edges. "He doesn't even like her." _But he didn't exactly pull away when she kissed him earlier, did he?_ a traitorous inner voice whispered. _At least, not while you were watching. Who knows what they did after you left the room? _She quickly forced these thoughts away and said, "Yvonne is working with you, isn't she? I knew there wasn't something right about that bitch."

John shrugged. "I have no idea who she is. She was observed entering the premises by the agent we planted outside your house, but before that, none of us had laid eyes on her."

"You're lying!"

"Elena, the witch doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. Say you'll kill the bloodsucker."

"No."

He sighed and shook his head disapprovingly. "This is your final chance. I won't ask again."

"I won't kill Damon." Her gaze shifted to Jeremy, who quickly shook his head again. "He's changed a lot since the old days. He doesn't kill people anyone. He's _good_." _And I love him,_ she added silently.

He seemed indifferent to her words. "If that's your final decision," he paused to allow her the time to nod resolutely, "then so be it. Kill the boy."

"_No_!" she screamed, just as Jeremy cried out in pain. She lunged for her brother, but John reached out and caught her arm with a grasp of steel. He wouldn't let go, no matter how hard she struggled. She threw him a desperate look, fear pounding through her chest. "Please, don't kill Jeremy! I'll do it; I'll do whatever you tell me to do!"

He smiled, slowly. "Good. I thought that might change your mind. Let him go." This was directed to the hooded man, who let go of Jeremy. He slid to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Elena pulled to get free again, harder this time, and John unexpectedly let go. She fell to the floor, concrete cutting into her battered knees, and crawled frantically to her brother's side. She tore the gag from his mouth, lifting his chin to examine the cut on his throat. It wasn't very deep, thank God.

He panted for air, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. She reached out and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Oh my God, Jere, are you okay? I'm so sorry that I got you into this mess, I'm so sorry…"

He weakly pushed her away. His eyes were blazing with fear, but it wasn't for himself. "Elena, what have you _done_?" he croaked, voice rough. "How could you agree to that?"

She stared back at him, reality of what she had said finally sinking in. _"I'll do it; I'll do whatever you tell me to do!" _Her breaths came in quiet gasps, and her chest ached.

A shadow fell across the two of them, and she slowly looked up. John stood over her, arms folded across his chest. "Don't start getting any ideas about backing out of this little arrangement," he said. "We'll be keeping Jeremy here, of course, until the deed is done. And we'll drop you off in town instead of letting you leave on your own. That way our location will remain completely secret. No double-crossing on your part."

_Damon,_ she thought, suddenly very afraid. _Oh my God, what am I going to do?_

"Now," he said casually, "I believe I have something for you." He reached into the back of his waistband, then held out something long and pointed. She slowly reached up to take it, heart pounding. She had to do this, or Jeremy would die. There was no way out.

She had to kill Damon.

* * *

He had been pacing for at least half an hour, hands clasped behind his back and brow furrowed so deeply that it would have made Stefan's forehead look flawless. All he could think about was Elena, and where she had vanished to. What could be happening to her right at that moment. What he was going to do when he found the goons who had taken her.

"Damon," Alaric said. He was sitting in one of the office chairs, and had so far been silent and allowed the vampire time to pace and dwell on thoughts of gruesome deaths for anyone who dared harm his girlfriend. Tyler and Yvonne sat in two other chairs, and had been equally quiet. Matt had taken Caroline to the hospital to get stitches in her head, which had been bleeding endlessly.

When he didn't get a reply, Alaric tried again. "Damon, pacing won't help us find Elena. Why don't you sit down for a few minutes and _rest_? You were badly injured not long ago, and I haven't seen you…drink anything."

"Alaric is right," Yvonne said.

"You're making me tired just looking at you," Tyler added.

"I don't see how sitting around here doing _nothing_ is helping us find Elena," he snapped, momentarily halting his pacing. "We should be out there hunting down those cloaked bastards!"

"Like I've already told you eight times, Damon," Alaric replied patiently, "my contacts are searching for information right now. When they find something, they'll call back. It makes more sense than running off half-cocked, without a plan."

"They'll be looking for Jeremy too, right?" Tyler said, obviously attempting to hide his concern. He, like the others, had spent twenty minutes searching the library after the attack. There had been no signs of Elena's brother. He had vanished without a trace.

"Yes," Alaric said. "Don't worry about him, Tyler. We'll find him, and Elena. They'll be fine." He glanced carefully at Damon, who pretended not to notice.

"I'm not worried," Tyler lied, not very convincingly.

"Is it possible Elena was working with those men?" Yvonne spoke up. "I mean, why would they take her? They were after me. Elena wasn't the best of choices for a hostage if they wanted to get to me."

Damon gritted his teeth together so tightly that something in his jaw cracked. He couldn't take any more of this! He needed to get out and kill something – preferably _several_ somethings – and get revenge on the men who had taken Elena from him. And if Yvonne said another word…

"We won't know until we get her back," Alaric answered Yvonne diplomatically.

"But I really don't understand. Elena doesn't have any witch ancestors, does she, Damon?"

He strode to his desk and grabbed a small porcelain statue of a frog. He threw it at the wall across from him with all of his strength. It hit the wall with a crash, splintering into hundreds of tiny pieces. Alaric and Tyler both ducked for cover. He ignored them, taking several deep breaths. Unfortunately, breaking the frog hadn't really helped release much of his anger. Not enough.

"Why did you do that?" Alaric said, looking astonished, as he cautiously sat up again. "Destroying your office definitely won't help find Elena, Damon."

"No," he acknowledged, "but it'll damn well make _me_ feel better."

"Then go for it, man," Tyler said.

He was thinking seriously of taking the young werewolf's advice, but the door creaked open before he could throw his desk out the window. He stared, eyes slowly widening, as Elena stepped into the room. "Hi," she said quietly.

He blurred over to her and wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her tightly to him. Her arms remained limp at her sides instead of going around him. He pressed his face into her hair. "Elena, I'm so glad to see you," he whispered, to keep the others from overhearing.

"Me, too," she said dully.

He didn't notice the sharp wooden stake tucked into the back waistband of her skirt, safely hidden from sight.

* * *

**Yay, another chapter! :D**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer:** If only they were really together on the show. But alas, it is not so. Yet. That's why it should be obvious to all of you that I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_. :P

**A/N:** Yes, I'm finally updating again. I lost my fan fiction mojo there for a while. O_O It was a dark time, friends, a dark time indeed. But I'm back now, so no worries! :D

Here's a bit of a recap, since it's been roughly SEVEN MONTHS since I last updated…  
_One month has passed since Stefan's death and Elena's announcement that she wanted to become a vampire. But she's been coming up with countless excuses as to why she isn't yet ready to become immortal. Damon's getting tired of the stalling, and even though he and Elena love each other, they find themselves fighting at nearly every turn. A witch named Yvonne Tyler appears on the Gilbert doorstep and says she's a witch princess in waiting for the throne, and that men in cloaks are after her. Damon and Elena reluctantly agree to take her in and protect her. The three of them go to a new library's grand opening party, along with Jeremy. There they run into Alaric, Tyler, Caroline, and Matt. Caroline and Matt both tolerate Damon, though they think he's been compelling Elena to force her to become a vampire. Yvonne follows Damon all over the party, and at one point, kisses him. Elena sees, and storms off. Damon shouts at Yvonne, and then at least a hundred men in black cloaks with medieval-style weapons flood into the library and attack them. Damon is injured with a spear, which Alaric pulls out. Yvonne is Damon's prime suspect for his injury, because strangely enough, none of the goons supposedly after her tried to even touch her. Tyler reports that Elena was taken by the cloaked men, and that Jeremy is missing as well. They don't know it, but both Gilbert siblings have been taken by John Gilbert, who hired the squad of Hunters to kill Damon. John shows Elena–who has just cut her hand while trying to escape–a gagged and battered Jeremy, and says that if she doesn't kill Damon herself, he'll dispose of Jeremy. She refuses. He tries to convince her that Damon is cheating with Yvonne, and because of the kiss she witnessed, a seed of doubt is planted in Elena's mind. John tells one of the men to kill Jeremy, and Elena finally relents. John gives her a stake, and says that she won't ever see her brother again unless she kills Damon. At the Salvatore mansion, Damon, Alaric, Tyler, and Yvonne wait, with no idea where to look for the missing Gilberts. Damon is basically freaking out at the thought of where Elena could be. Then the door opens, and Elena enters. They hug, and Damon doesn't notice the stake tucked into the back waistband of Elena's skirt…_

* * *

Chapter Seven

Damon pulled away from Elena, who at the same time took a step back from him. "Where have you been?" he said, eyes greedily drinking her in. He'd been _so_ sure that he'd never see her again, and the thought that the last she'd have ever seen of him would have been with Yvonne's lips pressed to his had made him feel sick. "Alaric's got contacts of his out searching for you." He put on his best cheerleader voice. "We were seriously _freaking_."

"Well, he was," Tyler said, jerking a thumb in Damon's direction. "He was this close to tearing apart his office."

"Elena," Alaric said, pulling out his cell phone. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She blinked several times, staring at the floor. "Everything's–" She broke off as her voice cracked, and cleared her throat. "Everything's a bit blurry," she murmured, without looking up from the floor. "I don't really remember. There were men in black cloaks, then…nothing."

"How did you get away?" Tyler asked.

Her eyes widened. "I…don't know. I woke up by the library, and went straight home. None of you were there, so I came here."

"Okay," Alaric said, thumbing a number into his phone. "I'll call the people I've got looking for you and tell them they can stop now." He started to raise the phone to his ear, then stopped. "Wait. What about Jeremy?"

Tears overflowed from Elena's eyes and down both cheeks. "I don't know where he is!" she cried, sobs choking her words. "Those cloaked men must still have him!"

"Damn it," Tyler muttered under his breath. Fisting both hands, he looked maybe a minute from exploding into wolf form and tearing up the office himself.

Damon knew things were starting to get out of hand, so he moved forward and put his arm around Elena's shoulders. She stiffened before relaxing against him, still sniffling. "Ric, keep your people out looking for Jeremy," he said. "Don't let them stop until they've found him."

"Got it."

"And I hate to be rude, but would all of you mind going home? Or if you don't have a home, then _somewhere else_?" he said with a pointed look at Yvonne, who had been so far silent. "Elena's been through a lot, and she needs to rest. So…vamoose! Get out! Scat!"

"All right," Alaric said, seemingly unruffled by Damon's theatrics. "Come on, Tyler and Yvonne. Let's leave these two alone for a while."

Yvonne's purple eyes filled with even more tears than Elena's, and her bottom lip trembled. Damon stared at her through narrowed eyes. "Please don't make me leave, Damon. I'd be so afraid that those men would come back for me!"

He sighed and exchanged a look with Elena. "Whatever Elena wants. If she wants you to get the hell out of here, then you're leaving."

Elena shook her head so hard the ends flipped into her face. "No, it's fine. She can stay."

Damon couldn't say he wasn't surprised by that, but tried to show no emotion. "Fine. There's a guest room at the top of the stairs. Go."

Her face immediately brightened. "Thank you so much!" She rushed from the room, and the sound of her feet on the stairs echoed.

Damon walked Tyler and Alaric to the door, and Elena stayed at his side, under his comforting arm. "I would say thanks for all the ass-kicking you guys dished out in that battle at the library," he said while opening the front door, "but I've said that word _way_ too many times today than can possibly be good for me."

"I'll call if we hear anything about Jeremy," Alaric said, following Tyler out onto the steps.

"Thank you," Elena said in a watery voice.

"Arrivederci," Damon said, and closed the door on the other two men. He put both hands on Elena's shoulders and carefully studied her face. Dark streaks of mascara were smeared under her eyes, and she had trouble meeting his gaze. "Are you really okay?" He reached out to the dried blood smeared on the back of her head as though to touch it, but stopped himself at the last minute. His fangs throbbed, and he bit down hard on his tongue in an effort to control himself.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"When I find those bastards who took you, I'll kill them," he promised. "They'll wish they never laid eyes on you."

Again, her eyes shone with tears. She nodded, but said nothing.

"Come on, let's go upstairs," he said, leading the way. "You need to rest for a while and get some strength back. Humans always tire out so easily, but what can you do?"

They passed the closed guest room door and went on into Damon's bedroom. He closed the door behind them and turned on the light, for Elena's benefit.

She slipped out of her shoes, leaving them neatly on the carpet by the door. "Could you get me some aspirin?" she asked softly. "My head is killing me."

"Coming right up." He moved with vampire speed into the adjoining bathroom and opened a cabinet. He dug around inside for a minute, and finally found a small white bottle at the very back. After twisting the cap off, he shook a pill into his palm and put the bottle back in place. As he entered the bedroom again, he found Elena by the big four-poster bed, putting something under one of the pillows. When she saw him coming, she jumped back from the pillow and straightened her skirt.

"Here you go," he said, blurring over to deposit the pill into her hand. She gave him a shaky smile and swallowed the pill.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." He sat down on the edge of the bed, and tried not to stare at the dried flakes that still adorned the back of her head. "So…nap time?"

She sat down right beside him, so that their thighs were pressed together. "I don't think I could sleep," she said, voice cracking again. "I'm too…too wound up." She nibbled on her bottom lip, so full and pink, and Damon suddenly found his body sliding away from his own control.

He spun on her and pressed their lips together. Elena didn't resist. Easily, he shifted them both backwards and straddled her, still twining his tongue with hers. He pulled her into a sitting position and tugged her shirt up over her head, tossing it in the general direction of the floor. "God, I missed you," he murmured against her lips. "I thought I was never going to see you again. Wouldn't that completely _suck_."

She said nothing, fingers easily finding the zipper on his jeans. Her eyes were full of desperation rather than need as Damon quickly slipped out of his clothes, but he didn't notice.

Soon the two of them wore nothing. Elena sat atop Damon as they continued to kiss, while Damon threaded his fingers through her long hair. "Elena," he groaned, before flipped her underneath his own body. She looked up at him, and there were tears in her eyes. With one hand, she reached for the pillow under her head.

Damon froze as he saw the wound slashed across her palm. It wasn't bleeding much, but some blood was getting free of the skin. His pupils contracted as he stared at the crimson liquid, and his fangs savagely tore their way free. She moaned his name, but did nothing to stop him. He went for her throat, fangs sinking deep into the soft white flesh. Warm blood oozed into his mouth, and he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

* * *

"You feel okay?" Damon asked some time later, rolling away from Elena to lie beside her on the tangled sheets. She sat up and rubbed her forehead, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She nodded, and he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I should have controlled myself. I should have–"

"No, Damon, it's okay," she said forcefully, almost like she was trying to convince herself. "I love you so much."

He leaned over and wiped the smallest trace of blood from the corner of her lips. They'd exchanged blood. He knew how wrong that was, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. Her blood had just tasted so _good_, and he'd taken too much. What more could he do but give her some of his own to replace what was taken? Guilt warred with pleasure while digging its way deep in his chest. Now, if something happened before the vampire blood wore its way out of her system…

"I love you," she whispered a second time, not looking at him. "I love you, Damon."

"I know, I'm a loveable guy," he said with a smirk. "The same goes from me to you, Elena. But why this sudden down-pouring of love?"

"I'm sorry!" she cried, then pulled a stake from under her pillow and threw her whole weight against him. Caught by surprise, he fell back against the headboard, and could only stare as she straddled his hips and held the stake high above his chest. Tears streamed down her face, and her whole arm shook, but the stake didn't come down.

"Elena, what the hell are you doing?" he demanded, making no move to escape.

"I have to do this! If I don't, he'll kill Jeremy!"

"Who'll kill Jeremy? What are you talking about?" He couldn't take his eyes from the deadly point of wood, still wavering above his chest. All Elena had to do was bring it down into his heart, and it was all over…

"Oh God, Damon. I can't do it!" She threw the stake aside, and it bounced off the opposite wall with a sharp clatter. She fell off of him and curled into a ball, shaking.

After blinking a few times, he sat up and touched her shoulder. She flinched away from his touch. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Uh, no," he said pointedly. "Why the hell would I do that? I'm not mad, Elena, unless you happen to tell me that you made up that comment about Jeremy, and that you were just trying to off me for the fun of it. Now sit up and tell me everything."

She did, clutching a pillow to her chest. "Those men took me to a warehouse outside town," she wept.

He stroked her hair. "Uh-huh."

"My uncle was there, John Gilbert. I haven't seen him in years, but he was acting like he knew everything about me. He had Jeremy, and said that if I didn't kill you, he'd kill Jeremy. At first I didn't believe him, but one of the cloaked men was holding a knife to Jere's throat, and h-he _cut_ him."

Damon swore softly under his breath. "Why didn't you just tell me this earlier? Not that the sex and blood wasn't great, which it was, but we could have already broken Jeremy the hell out of there." He slapped one fist against the opposite palm and smiled in a sinister way. "I'm in the mood to give out a major ass-kicking. My specialty."

"I was too afraid to say anything."

"Yeah, well, I guess I can understand that, but next time, just skip the whole fear thing." He got out of bed and bent to pick up his jeans.

"Where are you going?"

"Get dressed, Ms. Gilbert. We're going to get your brother back."

"Thank you, Damon, thank you _so much_," she said, and jumped over to throw her arms around his neck. Then she started getting dressed, pulling on her shirt and skirt as fast as she possibly could.

"So what was the point of you killing me, exactly? Just curious." He pulled his shirt down over his head and smoothed his hair back into place.

"He doesn't want us to date anymore," she said. "I guess that's his way of breaking us up."

"Yeah, so not gonna happen." He paused in thought while Elena finished getting dressed. "That bitchy witch the next room over? Yeah, her. She's involved with this John character, isn't she? I knew she was up to some crazy master plan thing."

"Actually," Elena said, "John told me he doesn't know who Yvonne is. He said he's never met her."

He raised his eyebrows. "Right. And we're actually going to believe the word of a lowlife scum who kidnapped his own niece and nephew?"

"He seemed sincere enough," she said with a shrug.

He frowned. "Then who the hell is she?"

On cue, the bedroom door slammed open. Yvonne stood in the doorway, inky hair fluttering around her shoulders with an unseen wind and eyes blazing with power. "You want to know who I am?" she said, voice almost unrecognizable, it was so filled with rage and hate. "I'm here for revenge, you _bastard_."

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**Any and all reviews would be absolutely lovely. :D**


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